Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Egypt and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Birthday Party to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
The Leaves,
The Modern Lovers,
Todd Terry,
the Bar-Kays,
Dual Sessions,
Excepter,
Man Parrish,
Roy Ayers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Severed Heads,
Inner City,
Tomorrow,
This Heat,
Pantytec,
Mo-Dettes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Althea and Donna,
Terry Callier,
James White and The Blacks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brass Construction,
Can,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bob Dylan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deadbeat,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mark Hollis,
The Music Machine,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soft Cell,
Man Eating Sloth,
Warsaw,
The Toasters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Anakelly,
E-Dancer,
Iggy Pop,
Joensuu 1685,
Lalann,
Wire,
Theoretical Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
The Human League,
Surgeon,
Henry Cow,
Lower 48,
Wally Richardson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Shuggie Otis,
Make Up,
Hashim,
Suicide,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rapeman,
Bobby Sherman,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.